


Stupid Sexy Jerk

by TWLBOAJ



Series: Self-Indulgent Blackrom Nonsense [3]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Black Romance, Blood, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Fight Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7216900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWLBOAJ/pseuds/TWLBOAJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider has a problem. A bespectacled, shorts-wearing, disturbingly handsome problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What the hell, may as well tie it in with the other stuff I wrote. (Might add a lil sequel thing? With Karkat as a voyeur? Not really sure yet if I wanna do that, because it might be kinda hard to write, and nobody's been commissioning me for writing, so idk.)

“Good god, man! What the chucklefucking christ is THAT?” 

“Crocodile.” 

“Well, I can see that, but what the shit are you doing with it??” 

Dave Strider peered over his shades at Jake English and gave him his most deadpan face. 

“Obviously,” he said, “I'm teaching it to tap dance. Fuckin Fred Astair-in' it up in here. Maybe I'll find a turtle to be his Ginger, have them do a shitty musical. What the fuck does it look like? I'm stuffing it. It's dead, and I happen to enjoy collecting weird dead things and preserving them in various ways.” With a prim swoosh of his hair, he went back to focusing on his work. 

“But all over the table? I was going to clean my guns today. Can't do that with your sawdust and chemicals and shit sitting around, no siree. An adventurer's guns should be clean and ready to use! Ready to bandy with aplomb to parts unknown, or ready to be the hero should a foe come to town!” Dave became aware that Jake was now posing with his foot on one of the chairs. However, he was used to theatrics, considering all the time he spent with Karkat. What he wasn't used to was this asshole running his mouth like some kind of mad libs Mark Twain book and insisting on using the big table for his stupid guns. With slightly less of a poker face, Dave turned to him again. 

“Yes, all over the table. Fuck, I'll live on this goddamn table. Get my mail delivered here and everything. Make a life on this table. Have some kids, raise a little table-dwelling family. I'll have Karkat move in with me to this fucking table. Pile up some fuckin taxidermy sawdust and carry him over the fucking wood dust threshold. And people will pass by and say, 'my, my, what a beautiful family. Those boys sure are happy living on that table in the middle of the room.' We'll be pillars of the goddamn community from our table. But for now, I'm taxidermy-ing this dead crocodile. So don't get your shorts in a bunch, and just fucking wait.” He expected Jake to huff and go away at that, as Jade or Karkat or even Kanaya would, but not Jake. No, sir. Jake sat right on down, on the chair he'd been posing with, at the table so that he was perpendicular to Dave. He squinted at him through his glasses at he sat down. 

“You really like hearing yourself talk, don't you? I confess, I'm something of a chatterbox myself, but nothing like that.” Dave refused to let himself be distracted by Jake's transparent attempts at baiting him, and he kept working on the crocodile. However, Jake refused to be ignored. Using his left forearm, he pushed Dave's supplies unceremoniously away from a corner of the table, causing several glass jars to clunk into each other, and bumping the crocodile's snout into an unnatural shape.

“What the fuck, man?? I'm trying to make some fucking dead guy magic here. Do you mind?” Dave shouted, dropping his needle and thread in alarm. Jake ignored him and pulled out a pistol, beginning to take it apart on the now-empty spot on the table. “Hey! Dickhead! What, are you suddenly in fucking zen mode because you're getting to do your weird compensatory bullshit? I'm trying to work!” But no response. Jake simply continued to calmly and procedurally clean his gun on the table. 

Perhaps it was frustration at the damage the crocodile's face had sustained. Perhaps was the annoyance of having to deal with anyone at all. Or perhaps it was the fact that there was now that much less work space. It wasn't clear why he did it, but at that moment, something in Dave snapped, and in a sudden display of pettiness and anger, he stood up and threw a large handful of sawdust all over Jake and his handiwork. Almost immediately, he was stricken with regret. This wasn't going to go well. Without a word, Jake stood up and wiped the sawdust off of his face. Thankfully, there wasn't much, but it was still scratchy and horrible, and there was a big pile of it on his disassembled pistol, which was a much bigger problem. But the biggest problem of all was standing right in front of him. A big, morbid, sunglasses-wearing problem. Jake silently walked up to Dave until they were only a couple of feet apart, and after a second of death-glaring, punched him square in the jaw with a right hook. Oh, it was on now. Dave wasn't a fan of fighting, or even conflict in general, for the most part, but getting to settle some bullshit with a shorts-wearing, gun-toting pain in the ass was a definite exception. He grinned, hoping to show that he wasn't afraid, and swung back at Jake, who dodged and tackled Dave to the floor. The two of them fought for a minute or two, and Dave finally got the upper hand, straddling Jake's waist, with one hand on his bizarrely naturally flippy hair, and the other cocked back, ready to punch him right in his stupid buck-toothed face. He was about to gloat a bit before letting him go, when he arrived at the incredibly uncomfortable realization that he was most definitely up at full mast. When the hell did that boner even get there? This wasn't the sort of thing to happen during most fights, certainly. Not even unarmed ones. This was not normal… 

Jake took advantage of Dave's pause of movement, slapping his hand away from his hair and pushing him off. He stood up and dusted himself off, leaving Dave sprawled on the floor. 

“Well, I suppose you win that round, chum,” Jake said, straightening out his clothes. “That said, I'd thank you to take it upon yourself to get the gobs of sawdust out of my weapon that you've buried on the table. I'll take care of the intensive cleaning later, you'd just have to dump it out. The table's yours for the day.” He glanced down at Dave, still crumpled in a slightly-distressed heap. “You doing alright, old boy?” 

“Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Yeah. I'll do the thing,” Dave mumbled in response, not moving for a moment. Jake shrugged and left. After about ten seconds, Dave stood up and dusted himself off, looking for his shades. (When had they been knocked off?) He wiggled his hips slightly, trying to hide the errant boner that had ruined everything. Maybe this was just a result of being hunched over tedious work for five hours. After finding his shades, he decided to give the now-deformed crocodile a break and take a shower. 

Once the water had heated up and his clothes had been removed, Dave stepped into the shower and took to getting rid of the horrific amount of sawdust that had accumulated on him somehow in the fisticuffs earlier. Ugh, Jake was such an ass. Swaggering around with his stupid mannerisms and his stupid guns and his stupid shorts and knee socks. Getting cleaned off was a relatively quick and simple affair, but even after making sure there was no grit left on him, Dave couldn't help but notice the disturbingly persistent boner that he'd gotten during that fistfight. 

“Huh. May as well take care of lil' Strider while I'm here. I'm in the shower, after all. The last domain of the privacy-craving man looking to get his jerk on… or off, I guess,” he mused aloud. Without a second thought, he got started. Fuck, it was so nice to just get to jerk off and not have to worry about that fuckwad who wrecked all that work. No, no. He wasn't going to let that stupid walking thesaurus ruin a nice wank. Not today. Dave instead tried to focus on things that were decidedly more pleasant. Karkat's choice ass. John's hot mom's neck and collarbones. Terezi's tits. Jake's legs- NO, NO, NO. GODDAMMIT. Dave shook his head, trying to steer his thoughts away from that jerkoff so he could better focus on this one. But he couldn't help but keep playing that fight over in his mind. He really didn't like conflict. But for some reason, that fight had been… well, it was fun, that's all there was to it. It was nice to just get to really tear into somebody like that, a perfectly even match, without being scared or feeling really unsafe. It was cathartic, even exciting. With a shrug, Dave went back to masturbating, leaning against the wall of the shower as the hot water fell over him. 

In a way, he decided, fights like that were a lot like intimacy. That'd explain this reaction, after all. Wrestling around with another dude, getting physical and stuff. But just between friends. Annoying, attractive friends. Yes, attractive. Dave was man enough to admit it. Jake was a good-looking guy, there was no doubt about that. No point in denying it. And those stupid shorts of his did accentuate shapely legs that were all the more eye-catching without any hair. Apparently it'd all burned off when he went god-tier or something. In any case, they were great. And not that Dave had been staring or anything, (it's not ogling if it's from behind sunglasses, right?) but his ass was pretty rad, too. Which made sense, really. Didn't make him any less obnoxious, though. Hot assholes were still assholes. But then, he didn't need to consider personality in situations like this. 

Dave decided at last not to worry about it, and just let his mind wander to earlier as he touched himself. He bit his lip as his breath caught, briefly. Just barely suppressing a quiet moan, he continued jerking himself off, replaying the events in his head as he did. He fixated in particular on one moment, when he realized he'd won. His legs straddling Jake's waist, his hand in his hair. Jake had looked frustrated, but not particularly angry. His arms had been up above his head, flopped onto the floor in defeat. There'd been a weird look in his eye, like he'd almost expected that exact position to occur. Like he'd known they'd wind up in compromising positions through that bullshit he'd started before. For some reason, that, more than anything, sent surges of excitement down Dave's spine. He finally finished himself off with the memory of that moment, hoping the running water would muffle the sound of a small whimper as he came. He turned the shower off, and like a light bulb going off, things pieced themselves together. Oh, god. He'd have to talk to Karkat about this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey here's some actual smutty stuff

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You fought the guy, and then got off thinking about the fight later?” Karkat lounged on Dave's bed, as he often did when engaging in his lengthy talks about romance. Dave rolled his eyes, wondering if he perhaps hadn't made a mistake in coming to his boyfriend about this. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“HA! See, I fucking TOLD you humans could feel pitch romance! I FUCKING told you!” Karkat crowed, kicking his feet in the air. “You have a crush on him.” 

“WHAT? No, I don't. That asshole ruined a perfectly good taxidermy job. Now that crocodile looks like he has the mumps, and it's stupid Jake's fucking fault. He deformed the poor guy. He's like the elephant man crocodile, a pariah, hiding from the other preserved animals and stuff in the corner. Fucking freakshow attraction, trying for a little kindness in a world that only laughs. And it's all Jake's fault. He is truly the villain of this entire thing.” Dave sat down by Karkat and allowed himself to pout, for a moment. He really was frustrated about how ugly it turned out, even if it was fucking hilarious to look at. Karkat turned to his matesprit and grinned, his horrible pointed troll teeth gleaming. 

“You totally do! Not in the same way that you obviously did with me, of course, but think about it, really think about it for a moment. You know it in your blood pusher to be true, and I can tell.” Karkat reached out a clawed hand and booped Dave on the nose. Dave fumed. He almost preferred him when he yelled. This was no help at all. “And don't worry,” Karkat continued, “if you do wind up doing human sex with him, I won't consider it cheating. Whole different dynamic, whole different relationship. I won't mind one bit.” He leaned back, looking almost smug. 

“Quit being a jackass,” Dave snapped, irritated at the whole situation.

“I'm not!” Karkat replied, sitting back up. “I'm seriously not. I think this could be good for you. You should act on your feelings. I'll back you up every step of the way, if you'll let me.” 

“...Fine, I'll do it. But I'm going to do this by myself. I'm not really comfortable with this whole thing, and it'd be weird.” 

“If you're sure...”

“I am. Sure as sure can be. I'm so fucking sure, it's like Minority Report up in here, but the future guys are all like 'naw man we got you you're good we totally know what's happening and we're in consensus and shit,' and I'm like 'yeah dawg I already know because I'm a time traveler' and it's all good.” 

It was not all good.

Dave had the sawdust-coated pieces of Jake's gun in his hands, dreading the situation before him. Sure, he could just give them back and let that be done and over with, but he could also take Karkat's advice… as long-winded as he was, he did know his shit when it came to romance, after all. Couldn't hurt to try, Dave figured. Jake might've been a lot of things, but a gossip was not one of them. He dropped the gun pieces in a bag and walked into the room, trying to look like he knew what he was doing. 

“Sup, buddy. Got your gun back to you, excess sawdust out of the equation.” He dropped the bag loudly onto the work table, eliciting a shocked jump from Jake across the room. Jake turned and stared at Dave, looking both angry and confused. 

“What the hell, Dave? Criminy, you can't just dump a guy's gun parts all over the place like that. What's your damage?” He walked up to retrieve the bag before it sustained any more unpleasantries, but Dave simply leaned on the table and smirked. 

“Why, I have no idea what you mean!” he taunted, grabbing the bag up at the last second and holding it out of Jake's reach. “Why do you ask? Do you think something's wrong?” Hiding behind the safety of his shades, Dave felt his confidence building. This was coming naturally to him. Maybe Karkat was right. Jake's eyes narrowed, and it became obvious he was starting to get annoyed. He walked up close to Dave, making up for the fact that he was a couple of inches shorter with his demeanor.

“Give me my gun back, Dave,” he almost whispered, menacingly. Dave's heart jumped up to his throat, but he managed to keep his tone down as he responded.

“Why don't you make me, Jake? What are you gonna do?” He inched even closer to Jake's face, until they were practically nose-to-nose. 

“I'll take it from you,” Jake growled, clearly out of patience. “I'll make you give it back.” 

“Oh god, this is how I die, isn't it,” Dave couldn't help but think, feeling his eyebrow twitch involuntarily. “Crushed to an incredibly handsome pulp by a legendary dumbass while trying to hate-seduce him. Stupid sexy jerk. God, this was a horrible idea. I'm gonna haunt Karkat for so long for this. I can't believe I took his fucking advice.” 

“Wait, what?” Jake stepped back, looking puzzled. Oh, god. Oh, no. He didn't…? “You know you just said that out loud, right?” OH, NO. Dave's hands shot up to his mouth, covering it up as if to stop any more errant streams of bullshit. Jake stared at him for a moment or two, and finally smiled. Not a nice smile, so much as one that marked a triumph. “You have one of those hate-crush things on me, don't you? Like John and Terezi do with each other?” He sauntered back up, no longer angry, and grasped Dave's chin in his hand, running his thumb along his lower lip. “I think that's just adorable.” When had Dave moved his hands? It didn't matter. What mattered was that he was totally blowing it and had to do something immediately. Otherwise this smug asshole would dangle this whole experience over his head for months. He followed his first impulse and started talking. 

“You're a fucking egomaniac, you know that? And christ, man, that's coming from me, captain cool himself. You think you're so goddamn smooth. But you're not! Your stupid old-timey mannerisms and phrases aren't charming, they're obnoxious. You probably made half of them up on the spot. And guns are stupid and swords are way better. You know it, I know it, and there's no point disputing it. And your taste in movies fucking sucks, even worse than John's, and his favorite actor is Matthew-fucking-Mcconaughey. You think you can get the drop on me, player? I don't think so. I-” 

“Looks like I already got a rise out of you, chum. Literally, in this case.” He glanced down at the embarrassingly obvious bulge in Dave's pants, looking infuriatingly smug. “Do you really think you're gonna talk your way out of this?” 

“Nope!” Dave piped up, kicking a foot out to sweep Jake's ankles, throwing him off balance. Jake stumbled backwards, barely staying on his feet. Dave raised an eyebrow and licked his teeth. “Mostly I just wanted to see your bullshit supervillain act. Not very good, I gotta say. Even dorkier than you look, with those stupid buck teeth and glasses.” The two of them circled slowly around, looking for an angle of attack. 

“Get out of here with that malarky! Your glasses are infinitely stupider than mine. And need I remind you of the fact that you're the one who makes a habit of keeping dead stuff in his room, like some kind of morbid ruffian? That kind of dorky nerd shit is hardly my style.” 

“Well, I'd like to see you make up sicknasty raps while you're off watching shitty movies! Or maybe you could try your hand at writing webcomics...” 

“Shitty webcomics!” 

“Ironic, awesome comics, fuck you!” 

“Isn't that why you're here?” Jake stopped moving and fixed Dave with a glare. Dave felt a little shiver go down his spine. This wasn't going how he'd hoped it would. He had to go back on the attack.

“Maybe, but I know it's definitely what you're doing here. Think I didn't see through your bullshit yesterday? I just have the guts to do what you wouldn't.” They approached each other, and Dave saw a little crack appear in Jake's armor. Got him. “You've been trying to do this for weeks, haven't you?” 

“Not really. Wasn't until Karkat tipped me in on what it all meant that I decided on it.” Dave gasped with shock.

“He did WHAT? Oh, that bitch! Oh my g-” he was cut off by Jake pulling him aggressively and suddenly into a kiss. It was clumsy and full of aggression, but pretty nice all the same. Dave figured he could worry about Karkat later. Right now, he had something far more interesting to worry about. He reached his hand up and grabbed Jake's hair, yanking his head back, and dove for his neck while Jake had snaked his hands up under Dave's shirt. Dave hissed as he felt Jake's nails leave deep, red scratches all along his back, from shoulders to hips. He retaliated by biting and sucking at the front of Jake's throat, where his collared shirts wouldn't be able to hide a massive, embarrassing hickey. The two of them bit and scratched at each other, interspersed with making out passionately, until finally Dave pulled back. 

“Hang on… where are we gonna take this?” 

“Huh? What, you mean this weird troll romance thingamabob?” 

“What? No, man. Chill. I meant geographically. In a spacial sense. Location-wise. I'm not gonna fuck you in the middle of the living room. That'd be mad inconsiderate.”

“Oh. My room's empty.” 

“Cool. Let's go.” They rushed off to Jake's room, making sure to not be seen by anybody else in the house. Once the door was shut and locked, it was time to get back to business. “Mmm. By the way,” Dave mumbled in between kisses, “What the fuck was up with that stunt you pulled the other day? Was that seriously you trying to get some Strider ass, or what?” 

“Don't flatter yourself. You just sprawl while you work, and it pisses me off.” Jake damn near ripped Dave's shirt off, and pulled him in close again. “Besides, that crocodile looks far more goofy and good-natured with its snout all fucked up like that. And – mmm… - you're a lot of fun when it comes to scrums and fisticuffs and the like.” 

“God, I hate how you talk,” Dave replied, pushing Jake onto the bed. He unzipped his jeans and stuck his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. “Maybe you should use that pretty mouth of yours for something useful instead, for a change.” He approached the edge of the bed, where Jake sat, and shimmied his hips out of his pants and underwear, thoroughly enjoying how Jake's eyes followed the descent of his waistband. He moved torturously slow, heightening the tension and coaxing Jake forward. Finally, Dave pulled his pants and boxers all the way down, allowing his cock to spring free. Jake glanced up at him, trying his best not to look desperate. This wasn't the time to collapse into a lust-ridden mess. 

“You know,” he finally said, gently grasping around the shaft of Dave's cock and giving the underside of it a small lick, “it's not really fair for you to shut my claptrap up if I still have to listen to all of your verbal tomfoolery. I think I have a better idea.” He suddenly grabbed Dave around the waist and threw him onto the bed. “In fact, I think a little quiet is something we could both do with.” Jake undid the buttons of his jeans and hurriedly shuffled them off, along with his boxer briefs. Picking up on what Jake was getting at, Dave scooted underneath him, trying to hide a smile of excitement. 

“69-in' it up, then, huh? Gotta tell you, man, it's nice to hear a good idea from you for once.” Jake got on all fours, positioned over Dave, and raked his nails against his inner thighs. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, finally taking Dave's cock into his mouth and lowering his hips so that Dave could follow suit. Jake propped himself up on his elbows and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, only to be immobilized by a wave of arousal as he felt the heat and wetness of Dave's mouth around his own dick. His toes curled and his back arched, and it took a great deal of concentration to get back to the task at hand. Namely, reciprocation. He reached his hands underneath Dave's hips, grabbing a handful of his ass as he took the entirety of his cock into his mouth and throat, gently thrusting his hips downward as he did so. Meanwhile, Dave was taking Jake's cock like a champ, without so much as a single complaint. He hummed faintly, digging his nails into Jake's hips. He let out a small whine as Jake lightly traced his upper teeth against the underside of his cock, and found himself thrusting upwards. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears, and feel the muscles in his legs twitching. Finally, he could take no more and pushed Jake off. 

“Take off that stupid shirt,” he said, after catching his breath. Jake looked at him quizzically, but complied, also removing his glasses. They were starting to fog up, and that simply wouldn't do. 

“Take off your stupid shades, then,” he teased, half expecting Dave to refuse. However, sure enough, the shades came off, and Dave's unsettlingly bright red eyes looked back at him, full of malice and desire. After a moment of staring at each other, Jake ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back against the wall, smirking. “You're wondering who should fuck whom now, aren't you?” 

“Fuck, no. I'm just getting started.” Dave crawled over to Jake, pulling him in close, and started kissing and biting at his neck, collarbones, and chest. He dug his fingers into his rival's lower back, leaving red marks that would later become small bruises. Jake stopped caring about banter for a moment and moaned wantonly at the feeling of being manhandled in this way. He reached his left hand up and grabbed Dave's hair, pinning him close to his body, while he began to jerk off with his right. 

“Aaah-oh god, don't stop…” he squeaked, reaching his fingers reached forward and found Dave's cock, prompting Dave to grind his hips against Jake's. 

“Not – aaah, fuck! - not bad for a morbid ruffian, eh?” Dave snarled, breathing heavily through clenched teeth. 

“Not bad at all… now be a good boy for me and straighten your back out, would you? I wanna kiss you again,” Jake replied, somehow managing to get his voice back to a smooth, even level. Dave flashed him a defiant eye, and Jake tugged on his hair a little harder, pulling a gasp of pain and surprise from him. “Did you not hear me? Come on up.” Dave glared at him and sat up a little higher, but instead of letting Jake kiss him, he grabbed him by the throat and squeezed lightly. 

“You are such a pompous ass,” he growled, moving his lips to Jake's ear. 

“Said the pot to the kettle,” Jake whispered back, gripping Dave's hair even tighter. 

“I never denied that, I just said that you were one,” Dave replied, before running his tongue along Jake's jawline and up across his ear, making him shiver and moan. “Not to mention a fucking slut. Look at you, falling to pieces at the lightest touch. You're like a piece of Ikea furniture.” 

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jake snapped, reaching his right hand back and slapping Dave on the ass. Dave yelped and arched his back with a small, high-pitched whimper. They both paused for a second to process what had just happened. Jake smiled broadly. “Oh, you like that, huh?” He turned his head to face Dave, nudging his face with his nose. Dave backed up to look at him, looking almost resentful. Not unhappy, per se, but certainly disappointed that a weakness of his had been found. He really did see this as a contest. It struck Jake as really endearing for a moment, before he realized that he did, too. And he'd just gained an advantage. His smile turned predatory, and Dave's eyebrow twitched like it only did when he was caught off guard. 

“I guess that tells you who's fucking who this time, doesn't it?” Dave muttered, with a pissed-off sneer. 

“Guess it does.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy here's the rest of the smutty stuff

Dave wasn't sure whether to be pleased or annoyed that he was on all fours, preparing to get fucked. On one hand, hell yeah, he was having sex with a hot dude, but on the other hand, it was smug dickhead Jake English, who would probably never shut the fuck up while doing it. God, he'd probably yell “tally ho” or “holy toledo” or some other stupid shit when he got off, Dave thought grimly to himself. If that were the case, he decided, he'd die immediately of second-hand embarrassment and the great big justice clock in the sky would deem it just. 

Meanwhile, Jake could hardly keep in his excitement. Of all the possible ways this encounter could've gone, this was most definitely the best one. A good ol' time being had by all, with plenty of opportunities to piss off Mr. Coolguy himself. He put on a condom and re-applied lube, making sure everything was prepared.

“You ready?” 

“The fuck do you think, stupid? Been sitting here ready like this for what, ten, fifteen minutes, now? People are gonna start putting my mug on milk cartons at this rate.” 

“Don't be a dick,” Jake replied, smacking Dave's ass again. Dave's whole body shivered, and he couldn't suppress a slight moan. 

“Just fuck me already,” he gasped, arching his back, and that was all the invitation Jake needed. He lined up his dick with Dave's entrance, and slowly pushed his way in. Dave made a high-pitched keening noise and gripped the bedsheets tightly in his hands. Jake roughly grabbed Dave's hips and started fucking him faster, harder, vaguely aware of the moans coming from his own mouth. He pulled a hand back and gave Dave's ass another slap, leaving a bright red mark where his hand had been. Dave squirmed and whimpered, and he reached a hand down to jerk himself off while getting fucked. Jake noticed this and grabbed his wrist, pausing momentarily. 

“Hang on, old chap, you're not getting off that easily.” 

“I honestly can't tell if that was a pun or not. Come on, though. You don't have to torture me, guy, I'm just a simple man with simple needs.” 

“You're a lot of things, but I don't quite think 'simple' is a good descriptor. Anyway, I like playing with my food, as it were. You're absolutely irresistible when you get like this.” Jake leaned forward briefly to bite Dave on the shoulder. Dave shot a dirty look in Jake's direction, but did not otherwise respond. “And besides,” Jake continued, “What's the point of hate-fucking somebody if I let him get off in his own time? Annoying you is the bee's goddamn knees. Especially like this.” With that, Jake went right back to fucking Dave, pinning his right arm behind his back. Not hard enough to be painful, of course, but tightly enough that he couldn't break out and touch himself while getting fucked. With his other hand, Dave dug his fingers into the bedsheets, gritting his teeth and trying his best not to moan or whine too much. He'd be damned if he'd give the booty-shorts'ed wonder the satisfaction of knowing he was doing a good job. It was difficult, though. The occasional whimper would slip out here and there, and he could almost feel Jake's stupid smirking face looming behind him. 

“So, is this – ah! - it, then? You're just gonna f-fuck me until you come and decide th-that's enough? Fucking boring, man.” It took all his effort to keep his words coherent, but Dave managed somehow. Glancing back, he saw Jake frown. Good. That got to him. He continued. “Honestly, I expected more out of a guy who thinks he's Indiana Jones part 2, but I guess not. I guess it makes sense that you'd finish off here.” 

Jake could've let the comments slide, and just kept going, but he decided that like it or not, Dave was right. There were far more ways to go about having a good time than just fucking someone from behind and letting that be it. He growled under his breath and let go of Dave's wrist. 

“Fine,” he said. “If you can't take it, I guess we can do something else.” He slowly pulled out and tossed the condom he'd been wearing in the trash, before pushing Dave over onto his back. The little twerp was grinning. 

“I never said I couldn't take it. You know I can take it. Your ego is just too fucking fragile, is all.” Dave sat up and brought his face right up to Jake's. “Even the slightest criticism, and look at you!” 

“I didn't stop because I couldn't handle criticism. And besides, I'm not the one who can't handle being right once in a while, stupid.” Jake used a single finger to push Dave's forehead back, before wrapping a hand around his throat. “But enough of that. Are we just gonna sit here and talk each other to death, or are we here to fuck each other senseless?” 

“Either's good, but the latter seems like the direction we're going,” Dave retorted, in a slightly breathy voice. He pulled Jake into a kiss, somewhat foolishly, as his weight knocked them both over, so that Dave found himself on his back again. Oh, well. This was fine, too. He reached his hands down Jake's sides, raking his nails hard against his skin, as Jake tightened his grip around Dave's throat and stuck a couple of fingers from his other hand into his mouth. Determined to not look like he was getting too carried away, Dave sucked on Jake's fingers obediently and silently enjoyed the tightening sensation around his throat. That said, he was most definitely getting a kick out of the hisses of pain that Jake was letting out at the feeling of Dave's nails digging into his sides. Dave decided that when he got his mouth back, he'd have to see about drawing blood. Bruises were fun and all, but he'd spent far too many afternoons glancing with masked envy at John and Terezi's very obvious scratches and scabbed-over bite marks. Karkat was a huge softy, and not somebody who he wanted to hurt anyway, so it'd be nice to have a chance to give marks like that to somebody at last. Shivers suddenly went up his spine as he felt Jake grinding up against him. The friction between their cocks was enough to make him moan and whimper against Jake's fingers, and despite himself, he glanced up at Jake, who looked nothing if not sadistic. That son of a bitch was enjoying himself far too much. Dave turned his head to the side to get Jake's fingers out of his mouth, and pulled him close by the back of his neck, curling his thumb around to squeeze on his windpipe as he did so. Two could play at this choking game, he decided. 

“What's that smug-ass look for?” he murmured. 

“You know,” Jake replied, arching an eyebrow. The conceited look was wiped right of his face, however, when Dave pulled him even closer and dug his teeth into the crook of his neck. It was especially satisfying to hear a trembling moan from him, considering he'd been in control for most of the afternoon. Dave bit down as hard as he could, until he felt the pop of breaking skin and tasted blood. He could hear a sharp gasp from Jake, and felt the tempo of his hips increase. “So that's how we're doing things, huh?” Jake asked, panting. 

“Mmm-hmm,” Dave replied, licking up the blood from the bite mark he'd just made. He punctuated it with more scratches, this time along Jake's back. Jake released Dave's throat and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back, and kissed him deeply. A tangle of teeth and tongues, the kiss was more an act of aggression than one of passion, and they both knew it. Jake pulled back, gently pulling Dave's lower lip with his teeth, and they stared at each other with a kind of cruelty that neither had known they'd had until now. 

Dave kicked suddenly against the bed and launched himself over, taking control. Not smoothly, of course. It meant a lot of fumbling and struggling with arms and legs, and Jake's teeth tore a small cut into his lip, but once he was on top, he was right back in business. He jammed his mouth against Jake's, a little harder than perhaps he intended, and he felt their noses clunk against each other. For a moment, he disregarded the pain and just went back to making out, and the two of them felt themselves get worked up into a frenzy. 

After a few minutes, Dave pulled back, and looked at Jake's face. His upper lip and nose were bleeding, he had a huge smear of blood all over his right cheek, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were wild with lust. He looked fucking beautiful. Dave could only assume he looked just as fucked up, and if anything, that got him even more excited. He licked the blood from his lips and scooted down, figuring that for all the injuries he'd received and for how sore he'd be later, Jake deserved to get off first, after all. 

Dave wrapped his lips around the shaft of Jake's cock and glanced up at him as he raked his nails down his chest and stomach, leaving bright red marks in his wake. Jake arched his back and moaned with abandon, no longer caring about who “won” or “lost.” He just wanted to come already. And he was beginning to get real close. He glanced down at the gorgeous young thing that was sucking him off, and couldn't help but be proud of the nosebleed and bite marks that he'd given him. They'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do once they were done here, but it was worth it. Fuck, Dave looked so hot like this. 

“You can touch yourself now, if you want to,” Jake gasped, screwing his eyes shut and trying not to squirm too much. Dave momentarily took Jake's cock out of his mouth.

“Please. As if I need your fucking permission.” He rolled his eyes and went back to giving what had to be the most macabre blowjob of his life, and went ahead and started jerking himself off anyway. The last thing he needed was to be left with blue balls after all this was over. 

It only took a minute or so for both men to come at last, Jake in Dave's mouth and Dave all over Jake's bedsheets. They took a second to recover and pulled themselves together, sitting up atop the bed. After a moment of silence, Dave finally spoke up, wiping the blood from his nose. 

“I have to say, I'm surprised at you. I was expecting you to say some stupid fucking thing in the throes of passion. Like 'tally-ho' or some shit.” Jake weakly punched him in the shoulder and chuckled. 

“Shut up, man. Or I just might, next time.” They glanced at each other and giggled, before shuffling about and getting dressed again. 

“God, I look as bad as you,” Dave lamented, looking at himself in the mirror before putting his shades back on. 

“Oh, come on,” Jake replied, adjusting his own glasses. “I'm way better-looking than you.”

“And yet, you just couldn't get enough choice Strider ass.” He glanced over with a smirk, and Jake rolled his eyes. 

“Funny, that's what Dirk said.”

“Oh, come on. Don't pull that shit, man. Low blow.” 

“Alright, alright, I'll cut it out. Now get the heck out of my room and clean yourself up. You look like you fell down stairs.”

“It's gonna keep happening,” Dave whispered with a snicker, leaving the room. 

The next morning, Dave was awoken by Karkat kissing his forehead and ruffling his hair.

“I see you took my advice!” 

“Oh, come on. As if I wouldn't find out about your machiavellian bullshit. You totally knew what was going to happen, didn't you?” Dave raised an eyebrow at Karkat, who blushed.

“Well, can you really argue with the results?” 

“I guess not.” Dave pulled his boyfriend in for a hug. “Tell me next time you wanna play matchmaker, though.”


End file.
